


Organized Crime

by Ashley5627



Category: White Collar
Genre: Abused Neal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Hurt Neal, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley5627/pseuds/Ashley5627
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bonds' file never crossed Agent Burke's desk and the two never played their cat and mouse game. Neal still went to prison, broke out, got caught, then went to work with the Feds, but Agent Ruiz became his handler, not Peter. But when a case that needs the expertise of both Peter and Neal, they end up meeting anyway when they go undercover together to take down an arms dealer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to come up with some unique name, but I couldn't think of one, so I just played it off of the show's name. It's called White Collar, but since Neal is working in Organized Crime, that's what the name is. Brilliant, I know.
> 
> I wanted someone we could all relate to, so I made Hughes Ruiz's boss instead of Peter's.
> 
> To make things easier for you guys to imagine and for me to describe, Organized Crimes' office is going to look the same as White Collars. Office buildings do that anyway so it makes sense.

An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break. -Ancient Chinese Proverb.

WCWCWCWC

Neal liked Agent Callahan - well, as much as someone like him could like an FBI agent that caught him and put him in prison for four years, then caught him again and put him back in prison - and after he arrested him for the second time, Neal hoped Callahan would consider letting him out of jail. Unfortunately, when he pleaded his case to the agent, he didn't take him up on the offer.

Neal tried everything short of begging on his hands and knees, but Agent Callahan just told him that he wouldn't risk his career on someone that would run the moment he had the chance.

That was fair, sort of. Neal needed to find Kate, but he couldn't do that with the FBI breathing down his neck. He would have stayed as long as he could search for her.

She waited for him for three years and seven months, and then she just leaves? Something just wasn't adding up and Neal was determined to find out why she left when they were going to be together soon. A wine bottle in a empty apartment can't be where their story ends.

Two weeks and fourteen more lines on the wall later, he got a visit from an agent by the name of Hughes. Agent Hughes saw the potential in having a criminal helping them out, so he offered Neal to be assigned to a man named Agent Ruiz. Neal couldn't say no - he just wanted out of prison. He would deal with who his handler was after that.

How bad could this Agent Ruiz be anyway?

WCWCWCWC

Neal couldn't really complain. He was out of prison, he had that going for him, but his handler was not what Neal expected, or wanted. The moment they met, Ruiz had told him, point blank, that he didn't want a criminal working with him. Hughes forced Neal on him and he couldn't say no. He didn't trust Neal and never will. It wasn't really a good start to a relationship, but Neal still tried to stay on his good side as much as he could so he could stay out of prison, and it was working so far.

The motel he was staying at was bleak, the no heat policy may become a problem when winter rolls around, but it wasn't a tiny cell for four more years, so he wasn't complaining.

Clothes from thrift stores were not what Neal would usually wear, but it's not like someone came in while he was there with an armful of Devore's or any other God-send like that. But he did have clothes, so there was no reason to complain.

Ruiz's distain also showed in the other agents in the division, almost like the agent told them to 'treat you like the criminal you are' as Ruiz had so pleasantly put it when they first met.

He didn't exactly expect a warm welcome, but he thought that they'd start liking him after a while, but they just kept giving him the cold shoulder. But that was nothing to complain about. He could deal with mean looks and snide remarks about his former profession. At least they gave him some nicknames like 'Conman Caffrey' or 'Snake Eyes' (Ruiz got that one from Neal's landlord and it's spread since then.) and his personal favorite, 'Pet Con.' That's been fun.

For the first few weeks, he couldn't get ahold of his partner in crime, Mozzie, so he couldn't really get any resources, like money. He had to spend the little amount of money he had those first weeks very carefully. It wasn't easy, but he managed without skipping too many meals. Not that he was complaining.

When he finally got ahold of his friend, Mozzie regretfully told him that he couldn't hack the anklet. But he had a two mile radius and, as he's been told, that's a lot in New York, so he couldn't complain about that.

He actually did try complaining a few times to Ruiz, but each one was answered with threats of prison, so he just shut up and put up.

All Ruiz seemed to trust him with was dull paperwork, coffee runs and sorting files. That was, until today. Ruiz, not so nicely, called from the top of the stairs for him to come to the conference room. He had never been called to the conference room before.

Happy to finally do something less menial, Neal quickly bounded up the short steps and into the conference room where many other agents had gathered already.

He smiled at the agents when he entered, but all he got back was the usual - glares from the mean agents and half frowns from the nicer ones.

One agent though, one he hadn't seen before, smiled at him and Neal was slightly ashamed to feel his heart warm from that.

But that was strange, he was obviously an FBI agent, if the terrible Brooks Brothers suit was any indication, and FBI agents did not like criminals. Though Neal suspected that the agent didn't know Neal was a criminal. It's not like he had it tattooed on his forehead, just his ankle. That was probably why he smiled. If he knew the truth, he would sneer like the rest of them.

There were no seats left to sit in so he went towards the back of the room and stood there. A few other agents were standing as well so he didn't feel too awkward about it. He figured Ruiz would want him out of the way anyway. The nice agent was standing, but he was in the front of the room, by the flat screen on the wall.

Ruiz and Hughes walked in and everyone quieted down and Neal wondered which agent they were afraid of or respected. Ruiz and Hughes also stood by the TV.

"New case everyone," Hughes said and slapped down a large stack of files on the table. The agents sitting at the table spread the files around to the agents standing up. Neal wasn't surprised, but still a little hurt, that he didn't get one.

"Eddy Mendez," Hughes said and pressed a button on the remote he had in his hand. An image of a large Hispanic man with multiple tattoos covering his body appeared on the TV behind the three agents. "He's popped back up on our radar, but this time he's bringing in paintings instead of weapons. That's why White Collar was brought into this," Hughes said then looked over to the nice agent. "This is Agent Burke, he's going to be helping us take Mendez down."

"Caffrey," Ruiz barked, "read up on Mendez. You're going undercover with Burke."

Neal knew that none of the agents trusted him as far as they could throw him, so he was surprised and excited to hear he was going undercover to bring down someone that was making the streets a more dangerous place. He didn't think that he would be doing anything like that for a long time, if ever.

"Yes, sir," Neal said. Neal liked the idea of working with Agent Burke. He seemed like a good guy so far. Besides, White Collar crimes were definitely his area of expertise, especially compared to Organized Crimes.

Neal was excellent at reading body language and facial expressions, so he could tell that Ruiz and Burke didn't like each other. But while Ruiz's contempt was obvious, Burke's was more subtle.

After finally getting ahold of a file, Neal found out that Eddy Mendez was not a guy to mess around with. He's brutal in his ways and does some pretty gruesome things to the people that double-cross him. He's one of the top guys in the gun market in New York, but he doesn't just sell guns - he can get you anything from simple hand grenades to land mines. Not something the FBI wants on the streets.

Apparently Neal and Agent Burke were going to go undercover as a buyer and his assistant, and Neal was happy to see he was going to be the buyer. He didn't doubt the agents abilities to work a con - or a sting, as it were - but since he knew what to look for when authenticating the painting, he was the man for the job.

After memorizing the important details of the file, Neal went back into the conference room to ask Ruiz what his next task was. Agent Burke and a very attractive African-American woman were in there as well. They were going over some papers on the large glass table and whatever they were talking about, they were discussing it too quietly for Neal to hear.

"I want you wired up. The meetings in a hour," Ruiz said while pointing a degrading finger at Neal.

"How did you set that up so fast?" Neal asked, then a thought suddenly came to him. "You've been planning this for a while." It wasn't a question.

"Wow, you really do catch on quick, Caffrey," he said sarcastically. "Yeah, we've been setting this meet up for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't need to know - you're just a criminal consultant." Ruiz said those words like he was talking about a bug under his shoe - not even worth stepping over.

"Well, I think if you told me sooner, I would have been able to help," Neal said.

"We didn't need your help. Just do what you're told and don't mess this up," Ruiz said shortly.

Neal figured that Agent Burke was at least partially listening to their conversation, and he supposed it wouldn't matter if the agent was in the same room while he talked about his anklet. He would find out about his rap sheet eventually anyway, if he hadn't already. And why does it even matter what the agent thought about him anyway?

"I'm just saying, I might know a few things you guys don't, like the fact that people like Mendez go through a lot of security checks to make sure the person they're meeting with isn't wearing a wire or has a gun, so don't you think you should take off my anklet for this? I'd hate for them to see it and blow the whole op."

"I don't think so, Caffrey," Ruiz said. "I'm not giving you a chance to make a run for it. You're just going to have to deal with it."

"They're going to pat me down, sir, and they're going to find the anklet," Neal said.

"The kids' right, Ruiz," Agent Burke suddenly said. Apparently he actually was listening in the whole time.

Wait, kid? He's thirty years old - he's not a kid.

"I'm his handler, Burke, so I get to choose what to do with Caffrey," Ruiz said angrily.

"That may be, but I'm going undercover with him, so it's my butt on the line if they figure out we're FBI," Burke said.

Apparently they were going to just talk about him like he wasn't in the room with them. But he supposed that was okay as long as he got his way.

Ruiz stared Burke down for a long minute before throwing a hand up and looking away. "Fine, we'll cut the tracker. But if he runs, it's on you," he said, looking at the agent again and pointing a finger at him.

"You're not going to run, right, kid?" Agent Burke said with a crooked smile.

Neal gave the agent his best conman smile. "Of course not, sir," he said sincerely. If he was going to run, he'd wait until Mendez was behind bars.

"Good," Burke said with a smile and a nod. Him and the agent that was with him left the conference room.

The moment the two agents were out of sight, Ruiz slammed Neal against the wall and pushed an arm against Neal's throat. He lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. "That's the last time you make a fool of me in front of another agent, ya' hear me?"

Neal nodded almost frantically. He wanted to push Ruiz's suffocating arm away, but he didn't dare move.

"You'd better learn your place and not mess this operation up or you'll be on your way back to the big house before daybreak."

Neal swallowed hard around the restricting arm and nodded again even though Ruiz didn't actually ask a question.

"Good," he said, then pushed harder against Neal's throat. "Don't make me tell you again."

Neal was starting to get light-headed and black dots started dancing across his eyes, but he still waited for Ruiz to pull away. Fortunately Neal's was saved when Agent Burke and two other men came into the room. Ruiz pulled away before anyone could see what was happening.

Neal tried to act like his boss wasn't just choking him, but it was hard not to gasp for breath. He did manage not to rub his neck, though.

Neal knew Ruiz was hotheaded, but he didn't think he'd actually attack one of his colleagues. Of course Neal wasn't a colleague - he was a criminal, a tool in their belt, so it was okay to knock him around a bit to get their point across, right?

"Ready to get wired up, Caffrey?" Burke asked, apparently not noticing that anything was wrong.

Ruiz gave Neal a hard look, wordlessly telling him not to say anything about their altercation.

Neal cleared his throat and forced a smile on his face. "Yeah." His voice wasn't as raspy as he thought it would be. That was good - he didn't want to sound like he had laryngitis during the meet with Mendez.

Neal acted like everything was fine while him and Burke got wired up and went to the meeting spot.

Everything was riding on this op, so Neal was not going to mess it or his limited freedom up by tattle-tailing.


	2. Chapter 2

The meet was at a warehouse by the docks. The warehouse belonged to Mendez, but he was smart enough to not leave anything of questionable origin lying around. NYPD had searched it two months ago, but all they found was the legal part of Mendez's shipping operation - an innocuous looking coffin shipping company. The empty space inside of the coffins makes for an convenient place to hide guns and other contraband.

The inside of the warehouse was filled with crates of various sizes that held coffins that were packed up and ready to ship. Mendez was in the middle of the large room in front of a black van and SUV, wearing an expensive light grey suit that Neal envied. Two muscular bodyguards flanked the already large man, their shoulder holsters prominently displayed.

Neal and Agent Burke approached the men and the bodyguards patted both men down. They wouldn't find either wire unless they looked too closely at Neal's watch or took apart Agent Burkes phone. After that was done, the two men returned to their positions behind Mendez.

It was always best to go along with what the guys with guns and thugs wanted to do- if you wanted to keep your insides on the inside, that is.

Neal wouldn't usually have dealings with people that brought guns and thugs to meetings with their new clients, but it's not like he had a choice in the matter.

"Mr. Halden, Mr. Reed. It's a pleasure to meet you both," Mendez said, extending his hand.

"The pleasure is all ours," Neal said, taking the man's hand in a short but firm handshake. Mr. Reed, AKA Agent Burke shook Mendez's hand as well.

They talked for a few minutes, dancing around the real reason why they were there. Everything was going well until a man came into the room and whispered something in Mendez's ear. Mendez listened to the man with an unreadable look on his face.

Mendez waited until the man left to talk. "Neal Caffrey. Ever here that name?" he asked casually.

Well, that wasn't a good sign. Neal could see Agent Burke stiffen next to him. So far Burke had played his role well, so Neal hoped he could keep it up so they could make it out of this mess alive. "Never heard of him. Should I?" Neal said, his face blank and voice casual.

"Yes, you should. He was a conman, but now he's a snitch for the Feds," Mendez said, anger showing on his face for the first time. He said the word snitch with such contempt. Neal knew Mendez hated snitches and the things he did to the unfortunate ones that he found out about were gruesome and definitely not something Neal wanted done to him. Just the thought of the that happening to him made Neal's heart-rate increase.

Agent Burke didn't have his gun with him, but he knew the other agents in the van were listening in, so he had hope that they would come in and take down the bad guys before everything got out of hand.

"He sounds like an interesting person," Neal said.

"I'm sure you are," he said, dropping the pretense that Neal Caffrey and Nick Halden were two different people.

Neal continued to smile all though he was really wishing the Feds would come in guns ablazin' sooner rather than later. Strange how that was very different not too long ago.

"I may hate Feds and their knack for interfering with my plans." He looked straight at Neal, his eyes cold and filled with hate. "But there's one thing I hate more than Feds, and that's snitches."

Mendez's intense, hateful stare and malicious words caused a shiver to shoot down Neal's spine.

Mendez pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants and pointed it at Neal and Agent Burke. Both men slowly raised their hands in surrender.

"Get in the van, both of you," Mendez ordered, waving his gun in the direction of the vehicle that practically screamed kidnapper transport.

"You know, we should really talk about th-" Neal started, but the sound of a gunshot silenced him. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the bullet hit him. Then the pain hit. It was a agonizing impact to his shoulder, jarring him to his bones.

Neal looked down to see that under his jacket the upper-left part of his white dress shirt was quickly becoming a dark crimson. He put a hand over the wound to try to keep his insides on the inside, but the blood just kept coming.

Neal met Agent Burke's eyes and he saw fear and concern in them. It looked like he wanted to rush over and help, but didn't want to anger Mendez any farther. Not a bad idea; Neal wished he would have thought of that.

Neal's legs became too weak to be able to hold himself up and he fell backwards, landing hard on the cold cement floor.

"Grab him and put him in the car," Mendez said, but his voice sounded like he was underwater.

Neal could hear footsteps past his gasping breath and soon the two thugs were in his line of sight. They each took one of his arms and hauled him to his feet. The movement aggravated the bullet wound in his shoulder and a cry escaped his throat when the pain went up to unbearable levels.

His vision swam and black dots invaded the corners of his eyes. He could barely tell where they were taking him, but he assumed it was the van. He heard the sliding door open and he was unceremoniously thrown in. Pain shot through him and he just laid there for a minute, waiting for the pain to die down a little.

"Take their phones," he heard Mendez say, then he felt hands on him until they found his phone in his jacket pocket, then apparently feeling like he didn't need it anymore, took the jacket from him. The van suddenly felt a lot colder.

He heard someone else enter the van and assumed it was Agent Burke. Then he heard the door shut.

"Caffrey," Agent Burke said, far too loudly. He rolled Neal onto his back, causing Neal to gasp in pain.

The inside of the van was only dimly lit by a light on the roof, being as the windows were blacked out. A thick metal wall blocked the view to the front of the van, so they couldn't see their kidnappers, but Neal was ok with that - it meant they could talk more freely. As the van turned on and started moving, Neal wondered when the calvary was coming to save them.

Agent Burke got up and tried to pull open the sliding door. When it didn't open, he tried the double doors at the back on the van. He cursed quietly and came back to Neal.

"Caffrey," Burke said again. Apparently he wanted an answer.

"I'm here," he said, his voice weaker than he thought it would be.

"Okay, good," Burke said, sounding relieved. "Just hold still, okay?"

Neal nodded and held as still as he could while Burke unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it back and off his shoulder to take a look at the wound. "How's it look?" Neal asked after a minute.

Burke inspected the wound with a look of concentration. "Well, if it hit a major blood vessel, you'd probably be dead right now," he said, not unkindly.

"Well, that's reassuring," Neal said wryly.

The van hit a bump on the road and shook the vehicle, causing Neal to groan in pain and Peter to wince in sympathy.

Burke reached under Neal's shoulder with one of his hands, probably to feel if there was an exit wound. He didn't look happy about what he felt.

"Damn, it wasn't a through-and-through," Burke said, not happy about the new turn of events. Neal hoped Burke wouldn't want to take the bullet out himself - that would undoubtedly hurt.

Burke sat back and pulled off his jacket. Neal knew what was coming next and he tried to brace himself for the pain. It didn't help much.

Burke bunched up the fabric and applied far too much pressure on the wound in Neal's opinion. Neal just barely resisted grabbing Burke's wrists and pushing him away, but he didn't even bother holding in the cry of pain. He pushed against the floor of the van with his feet in a feeble attempt to gain some purchase against the pain, but all that did was jostle himself, so he forced himself to stop.

"Didn't I tell you to hold still?" Agent Burke said, his tone authoritative, but also slightly teasing.

Neal knew he was trying to distract him from the pain and the blood pooling on the floor, so he played along. He gave Burke a strained smile. "You should know, Agent Burke, I'm not much of a rule follower," he said breathlessly.

"Yeah, I'm starting to notice," he said wryly.

Neal took a breath. He could feel that he was drifting, but he tried to stay awake. "How bad is it, Agent Burke?"

"Call me Peter," he said, trying to distract Neal from his question.

"Sounds good, Peter," Neal said. "I insist you call me Neal, then."

"Okay, Neal it is."

"You still didn't answer my question, Peter." Neal liked the way Peter sounded more than Agent Burke. It sounded a lot less formal and just... right.

Peter sighed as he looked down at the wound. "Well, the bleeding is slowing down, so that's good," he said.

Neal nodded, then let his eyes wander idly around the ceiling for a moment. "What's the plan then, Peter?" He asked after a minute.

Peter sighed as he looked around. "Well, I'm hoping Ruiz can follow us since you still have your watch."

Neal's watch had GPS tracking but Peter's phone didn't, not that it would be any use to them now. The FBI didn't need to make sure they knew where the agent was at all times being as he wasn't a convict.

"You still didn't tell me what the plan is," Neal said.

Peter looked at him with a slight scowl. "I don't hear you coming up with a plan."

"My plan is to not bleed out," Neal said as matter-a-factly as he could while nearly whispering.

Peter nodded slowly in agreement. "I guess that's a good plan, but we still need to figure out what to do if Ruiz can't track us."

Neal nodded, or at least he thought he did. Everything was dark for some reason.

"Hey, open your eyes," Peter ordered. Neal opened his eyes and looked at Peter. When had he closed them?

"You can't sleep now, Caffrey," Peter said.

Neal moaned and turned his head away so Peter couldn't see him close his eyes. He was so tired and he just wanted to sleep.

"I know what you're doing, Neal, but I can still see you," Peter said.

The van suddenly turned sharply, the momentum causing Peter to loose his balance and hit the side of the van. Neal was lying down so he didn't move as far, but he still hit his head. Adrenaline shot through Neal's veins and he suddenly felt a lot more awake.

The van sped up and Neal hoped the Feds were chasing them.

Peter pushed himself away from the wall, leaving bloody handprints on the surface. Neal had to look away before he got sick.

"You okay?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded, though it wasn't really true. "You think Ruiz is chasing us?" he asked.

"I hope so," Peter said. He moved to the doors in the back and tried to look out them, but Neal knew he wouldn't be able to see anything.

Neal had taken over holding the jacket against himself, but not nearly as hard, and not only because he didn't want to hurt himself, but because he just didn't have the strength to apply any more pressure.

The van turned sharply again, but Peter was holding onto the handle on the door so he wasn't thrown around. Neal threw up his hand in time so it was the only thing that hit the wall.

Peter gave up on trying to see out the window and came back to Neal's side. He moved Neal's nearly limp hand away from the makeshift bandage and put his own hands in place of it and pushed down. Neal's mouth opened in a silent scream, his face scrunching up in a grimace.

Everything grayed out for a minute, the only thing Neal could hear was Peter saying his name over and over, but Neal came all the way back to conciseness when he felt the van stop quickly, jostling the two men in the back of the van again.

Neal could hear shouts outside of the van, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. Peter positioned himself protectively in front of Neal. Neal didn't know what Peter would be able to do to stop someone if they came in, but he appreciated the action nonetheless.

Neal pushed himself on his elbow of his uninjured arm, trying to ignore the fire in his shoulder, and the two men waited with baited breath for one of the doors to open, not knowing whether it would be calvary or the enemy.

There was a gunshot and Neal flinched. Peter put his hand on Neal's ankle, right where his anklet usually was, and Neal bet he didn't even know he did it.

The sliding door opened and bright sunlight shone in, blinding both men for a moment. Two shadows appeared in the opening, guns pointed at the men inside of the van.

"FBI! Hands in the air!" someone that sounded a lot like Ruiz yelled, but both shadows lowered their guns when they saw it was their people.

"We need EMS, now!" Peter ordered, then turned back to Neal. "You're going to be fine, Neal," he said, but it looked like he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than Neal.

With the excitement over and the adrenaline rush fading, Neal energy seemed to dissipate. Neal nodded and let everything fade away. They were safe now and Peter would take care of everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank my sister and mother for helping come up with names, the coffin idea and for reading through my story to find any errors. And of course for their support.
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	3. Chapter 3

After a con or heist gone wrong, Neal would usually wake up in an basement or hotel room with a strange man looming over him, asking him confusing questions about his name and what years it was, and Mozzie standing a few feet away, looking worried because Neal had managed to hurt himself, again.

So it was strange for Neal to wake up to a beeping noise, sterile air and a white-walled room. He had woken up in a hospital before, but it always seemed to come with a pair of handcuffs. Neal moved his arms experimentally. When he felt some resistance, he opened his eyes and looked down to see his wrists were bare, but his left arm was in a sling. Strange.

Neal searched his memory to find the reason he was in the hospital. It took a few seconds, but the memories came back to him. The sting, Mendez, the gun, the bullet, the pain, the van, Agent Burke- no, _Peter_.

Neal looked around the room, hoping to see a familiar face, but no one was there. Feeling a little lonely and disconnected from the outside world and with nothing to look at around the room, Neal turned to himself. His left arm was in a navy-blue sling and he could feel bandages covering his shoulder, but couldn't see past the ugly hospital gown he had on. There was an IV in the back of his right hand that itched a little, and a pulse ox on his index finger.

Neal tried to sit up a little, but woke up all of the pain that was lying dormant inside of his body, predominantly in his left shoulder. He settled back down and pinched his eyes shut while waiting for the pain to die down. After a minute, it died down to a drug-dulled ache and Neal to open his eyes.

Just then, the door to his left opened, and a man in a white lab coat came in. "Mr. Caffrey, you're awake. Good," he said as he walked over to the bed that Neal was lying in. "My name is Dr. Reeves." He held out his hand far enough that Neal could use his right hand.

Neal shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Doc," Neal said with feigned cheer. "When can I get out of here?" Neal could already feel himself getting restless within the confines of the small hospital room.

Dr. Reeves looked at him questionably. "You're not even worried about your shoulder?"

Neal smiled widely. "I'm sure you patched me up just fine, right, Doc?" he said, going for nonchalance.

The doctor still looked a little confused, but continued anyway. "Well, your shoulder's going to be quite sore for a while, but, barring any compilations, you should regain complete control," he said.

"Great, but you still didn't answer my other question," Neal said.

"You should be able to get out of here tomorrow or the next day," he said.

"Have you talked to an FBI agents or possibly a Marshal?" Neal asked after a moment.

"Does this have to do with your little accessory?" He asked, nodding towards Neal's ankle.

Neal used his feet to move the blankets off of his legs. The anklet was attached to his left ankle. Apparently someone had put it back on while he was unconscious. That was a little disconcerting.

"Did you see who put this on me?"

"Yes, his name was Agent Ruiz. He came in about an hour ago, but he left soon after that. He left a guard outside the door, though."

Neal looked past Dr. Reeves to see if he could see out the little window in the door. He didn't see anything other than the wall on the other side of the hallway.

Apparently Ruiz wanted more reassurance that Neal stayed where he was told to than the tracking anklet. Can't trust a dog not to run away the moment you turn your back when it's been hardwired into his brain after being in too many situations it wanted to get out of.

"Uh, is there anyone else waiting out there?" Neal asked, feeling like an idiot. Why would Agent Burke be waiting for him to wake up when he could be home with his wife? Neal had seen the ring on his finger, so he knew the man had somewhere better to be.

"Yes, there was another man. He's in the waiting room," Dr. Reeves said. "I didn't catch his name, but I'm pretty sure he's an agent."

Neal nodded, surprised. That sounded like Peter, but it was strange that he actually was there to see him.

"I'll tell him you're awake," the doctor said, then left.

Neal used the buttons on the side of the bed to make the head of the bed to go up more. He didn't want to look frail, even if he felt it.

A few minutes later the door opened and Peter walked in, looking quite awkward. "Hey, how you doing?" He asked, smiling.

"Well, since I'm not in leg irons, pretty good," Neal said cheerfully.

Peter looked confused. "Why would you be in leg irons?" he asked.

"I'm not very useful right now, so I wouldn't have been surprised if I was put back in prison while I got better," Neal said.

Peter shook his head. "They wouldn't do that, Neal," he said as he sat down on a chair that was next to the bed.

Peter seemed to actually believe what he said, so Neal let it be. "So, why aren't you at home with you wife?" Neal asked, just so he could have Peter tell him why he stuck around.

Peter looked surprised, but quickly figured out how Neal knew about his wife and unconsciously played with his ring. "Well, this guy that I was working with got himself shot, so I decided that I should stick around until I knew he lived."

"Well, I'm alive and breathing, for the time being," Neal reported.

"Good to hear," he said lightly, but his eyes telling Neal he was truly grateful that Neal made it.

There was a silence and Neal started fiddling with the hospital bracelet on his wrist, twisting and tugging it experimentally. Then he started reading it. "They spelled my name wrong," Neal said, appalled, as he studied the words on the bracelet. "How could they spell my name wrong?"

Peter started to look uncomfortable and fidgeted in his seat. He shrugged.

"It's obviously C-A-F-F-R-E-Y, not C-A-F-F-E-R-Y," Neal continued.

"I'm sure they didn't mean to," Peter supplied. "They were probably in a rush or something."

"Well, it's such a relief to know the hospital didn't do this on purpose. I wouldn't know what to think if this was intentional," Neal said.

"Are you always this sarcastic, or is this just for me?" Peter asked, a little exasperated.

"Just because you're a _special_ agent doesn't mean I'm going to treat you specially. I'm sure you put your pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us," Neal answered.

Peter rolled his eyes but didn't comment.

"Wait, who filled out my forms?" Neal asked after a moment.

Peter suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Uh, not sure," he said, shrugging.

"You filled out my forms?" Neal asked, able to see the lie from a mile away. Peter nodded reluctantly. "How did you know all the rest of my info?"

"I... _may_ have read your file," Peter admitted, looking slightly ashamed.

"You read my file?" Neal asked unnecessarily.

"Well, yeah - I needed to know who was going to have my back," he explained.

"I didn't get that choice," Neal said, sounding more petulant than he intended.

"Well, it's your fault you're the criminal," Peter pointed out, probably not meaning to be rude, but after all of the recent comments he had been getting about that topic, it kind of hurt.

Peter seemed to notice and he tried to back-pedal. "That was harsh. I-I didn't mean that," he said.

"Yeah, you did," Neal said, nodding and not making eye contact.

Peter made a strange sound of reluctant agreement.

"So, when are you getting out of here?" Peter asked after a long minute, probably to break the awkward tension.

"Probably tomorrow," Neal said. It seemed like too long, but the doctors probably knew want they were talking about.

Peter bobbed his head. "Good, good."

There was another silence, only broken by Neal yawning. He had just woken up and he was already tired. Neal decided that he was going to blame the medication that they were no doubt pumping into him for his fatigue.

Peter got up and awkwardly patted Neal's knee. "Well, I should get going." He walked to the door but stopped before opening it. "Get well, Neal," he said, smiling softly, then he left.

Neal sighed and leaned back. He was exhausted and it didn't take long for him to drift off.

WCWCWCWC

The next time Neal woke up, it was to see Ruiz enter the room. Neal hadn't really expected him to come by.

"You're awake, good," he said as he stood at the end of the bed Neal was lying in, jacket open and hands on his hips in what seemed to be the standard FBI stance. "I need to talk to you."

"Talk away, sir." Neal hated to call Ruiz sir, but the agent had insisted on it.

"We got the guy driving the van, but the SUV that had Mendez got away. With the stuff we got from the watch and phone, next time he pops back up we'll be able to arrest him, so the op wasn't a complete waste of time and resources."

"Good to know," Neal said. Neal wanted to get angry at Ruiz for not caring for his and Peter's safety, but he was just too tired to care at the moment. It was probably for the best anyway - Neal didn't know how far he would be able to push Ruiz until he snapped and sent him back to prison, and prison was not where Neal wanted to be. Kate would be a lot harder to find behind bars.

"You'll be getting out of here tomorrow, so I expect you to be at work the day after that," he said, like he was doing a favor for Neal by giving him a day off before sending him back to work.

Neal nodded in agreement - what else could he do? Definitely not argue with him about his rights. As far as Ruiz was concerned, Neal didn't have any.

"Good," he said, then pointed a finger at Neal. "Don't even think about trying to escape, ya hear me? Your anklet is back on, and, if you think you can get past that, I have an agent at the door. I'm not letting you pull one over on me."

"Don't you think that if I was going to run, I'd already be gone, sir?"

Ruiz nodded, but didn't seem to actually agree. "You probably would have tried, but you wouldn't have gotten far."

"You're right, sir," Neal said, lying through his teeth. He would have been able to get out of the county within a day. But then he'd have the FBI on his tail, and that's not an easy life to live - he would know.

Ruiz nodded. "All right. See you then, Caffrey," he said, then left.

With nothing else to do, Neal turned on the TV that was hooked up to the wall. It was around eight at night so there should be something good to watch.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day Neal was released from the hospital and he took a cab to the motel he was staying at. The medication he was taking for his shoulder made him sleepy, so he mostly just relaxed in his motel room. Though the Cujo reincarnation that hung around the motel tried to get in his room a few times. That was a little stressful, but the beast hadn't figured out how to open doors, yet.

Neal was still weak feeling from the blood loss and physical trauma, but he still went to work the next day. It was that or wait for Ruiz to pick him up and bring him back to prison.

No one welcomed him back, but he didn't really expect them to. The only time anyone really talked to him was to give him their coffee order, and he idly wondered who got them coffee while he was gone because they obviously couldn't do it themselves.

Around noon, pretty much everyone had left to lunch except Neal and a probie that was trying to impress Ruiz and Hughes by working during lunch. Neal was still short on money, so he had brought a sandwich to work. He didn't bother going to the break room to eat it when he could sit at his messy little desk in the corner of the bullpen. That way he could try to finish the paperwork he was given. Neal thought that maybe Ruiz would let him go home early if he didn't have anything to do. It was unlikely, but a guy could dream, right?

The elevator dinged, signaling that someone had arrived at the floor, and Neal looked up. It was definitely surprising to see Peter walk through the glass doors that lead to the bullpen.

The agent looked around as if he was looking for someone, then his eyes caught Neal's and he smiled, but looked a little confused for some reason. He walked over to Neal's little desk that was overflowing with papers.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Neal asked curiously.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Peter asked back, confusing Neal.

"Last time I checked, I work here," Neal said slowly, looking around as if to check that he was where he thought he was.

"Shouldn't you be on leave?" Peter asked, looking concerned for some reason.

"My right shoulder still works, so that means I can still do paperwork and coffee runs, or at least that's what Ruiz said. But it's harder than it looks to carry eight cups of coffee with one hand, even with the little tray things," Neal explained.

Peter didn't seem happy about that. "You should have gotten time off."

"I did. I got a day off," Neal pointed out.

Peter shook his head. "That's not enough time for you to recover," he said angrily.

"Well, it's probably this or sit in prison for a week or so, and prison is not really a good place to relax and recover," Neal said nonchalantly.

"I'm going to have a talk with Ruiz about this," Peter said determinedly.

"You really don't have to do that, Peter," Neal said, silently hoping Peter would drop it. Neal really didn't want Peter to make a big deal out of it. Who knew what Ruiz would do if he found out that Neal had been complaining about his decisions.

"Just because you're a criminal on parole doesn't mean you should be treated differently."

Neal was surprised by Peter's concerns. Since Neal had arrived, no one had really given a damn about him. It was different, but pleasantly so.

"I appreciate your concern, but it was Ruiz's decision and I really don't think you should try to undermine it," Neal said, trying to make it sound like it would do more harm than good to intervene.

Peter didn't seem to like Neal's point, but nodded in reluctant agreement. "You're probably right," he said grimly.

Neal smiled widely. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right," he said, making Peter roll his eyes.

"So what brings you to Organized Crime?" Neal asked after a beat.

"Oh, I had a few questions about the report Ruiz wrote," Peter said, waving it off.

"Well, he went out for lunch almost an hour ago. He should be back in a few minutes," Neal said.

Peter nodded and rapped his knuckles on the small space on Neal's desk that didn't have papers on it. "Okay, I'll go wait in his office then," he said, starting to walk away.

"You can't - Ruiz locks his office when he leaves," Neal said, not mentioning that Ruiz only started doing that after Neal started working there. Wouldn't want a criminal to see what's in the files that aren't the boring cases that Ruiz had given Neal a few times.

Peter stopped in mid step, then turned on his heel to face Neal again. "Why does he lock-" Peter started, but quickly realized why. "He doesn't trust you enough not to rifle through his things."

"He locks his desk drawers, too," Neal said matter-of-factly.

Peter scowled at Neal. "And how would you know that?" Peter asked, probably not actually wanting an answer.

Neal was about to come up with some smart-mouthed reply, but just then the elevator dinged again and Ruiz and four other agents came out.

Peter looked over when the elevator dinged as well. He looked back at Neal. "See you later, Neal," Peter said.

"Bye, Peter," Neal said, then Peter walked over to talk to Ruiz. The two agents went up to Ruiz's office and went in after Ruiz unlocked the door.

Neal went back to his paperwork. He would have considered reading their lips, but he wasn't nearly as good at that as Mozzie was.

Three pages of mind-numbing paperwork later, Peter walked out of Ruiz's office and down the short set of steps. He smiled and nodded as he walked by Neal's desk, then he was gone.

Neal went back to the paperwork he had in front of him, knowing he'd never get it all done before the end of the day.

WCWCWCWC

Even though the op didn't go as well as expected, Neal had hoped he would be able to go undercover again. Aside from the whole getting shot and kidnapped thing Neal had enjoyed himself. Neal lived for the rush a con would give him, and what the FBI did wasn't too much different. Except they arrest potential business partners and don't get the priceless paintings after heists. And not to mention the paperwork. Who knew that a simple mortgage fraud case would produce so much paperwork. Neal's hand cramped more than it did when he was forging paintings or bond certificates.

Ruiz didn't say anything about giving Neal more time off or being mad at Peter for the rest of the day, so Neal figured that Peter didn't say anything about Neal's rights. Neal would have liked a few more days off, but he knew that, if anything, Peter's plan would backfire and Neal would be the one to pay the price.

At the end of the workday, Neal was making his way to the street through the parking garage to walk the mile to the motel. Through the years, Neal's instincts had become more heightened, so he could tell right away that someone else was in the garage with him, even though he couldn't see them. That wasn't odd being as many agents were going home as well, but that didn't stop the shiver from going down Neal's spine, telling him something was up. Neal always knew to follow his instincts, so he picked up his pace to get out of the parking garage that seemed to become creepier by the second.

Neal could see the street when he saw that his instincts were, unfortunately, correct. A man walked out from behind a pillar, and in the dim, orange-ish glow of the fluorescent lights above, Neal could see it was Agent Ruiz.

Neal stopped in his tracks, mostly because Ruiz was in the way. "Hello, sir," Neal said, acting like Ruiz popping out from behind a pillar in a dark and creepy parking garage didn't kick his flight instincts into full gear. "Going home?"

"Caffrey, do you think you can go behind my back to complain about the way I run things and get away with it?" Ruiz asked harshly, getting straight to the point and ignoring Neal's question.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Neal said slowly, playing dumb.

"You whined to Burke and he told me that I was treating you unfairly," Ruiz scoffed, like it wasn't true.

"He must have misunderstood me, then, because I didn't say any such thing," Neal said.

"So now you're telling me Burke, a respected federal agent, lied to me?" Ruiz said, but Neal knew for a fact that Ruiz didn't respect Peter.

"What? No!" Neal said. That wasn't what he said.

"So you _did_ tattle," Ruiz countered.

"That's not what I said either." He just couldn't win with this guy.

Ruiz narrowed his eyes. "I warned you not to demean me again, but you just couldn't keep your stupid mouth shut, could ya'?"

Ruiz took a few intimidating steps forward and Neal took a half-step back. They were about three feet apart now, but Neal still felt it was far too close for comfort.

"I don't remember saying any of that, but if I did, I'm sorry and it'll never happen again," Neal said, trying to get out of the situation before it turns physical again. Ruiz seemed even more angry than last time and Neal was afraid of what the agent might do.

In one quick motion, Ruiz lunged forward and grabbed Neal by the front of his shirt, then slammed him against a nearby pillar. The movement aggravated Neal's shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.

"You're only sorry you got caught," Ruiz growled.

Neal put his mobile hand up in surrender. "I'm sorry, sir, but I really-" Neal tried to talk his way out of another mess, but Ruiz wasn't paying any attention to what Neal was saying anymore.

Ruiz brought Neal's chest down to his lifted knee, knocking the breath out of Neal in one solid hit. Then he did it again. Ruiz released his hold on Neal and Neal fell to the ground on his good side, panting.

Apparently finding it okay to kick a man while he was down, Ruiz delivered two powerful kicks to Neal's abdomen. For such a little guy, Ruiz was definitely stronger than Neal expected. He must have a built frame under that cheep suit.

Neal could do nothing but lie there and take it, as much as he hated to do so. It was that or go back to prison for four years to be attacked daily, because apparently the word that Neal was working with the Feds was going around quickly. His fellow inmates would no doubt brand him a traitor for working for the Feds even though it was the only way to get out of more prison time. Taking a minor beating only when he did something Ruiz didn't approve of was the lesser of two evils, in Neal's opinion.

Ruiz crouched down in front of Neal and smirked. At that moment, Neal could tell that Ruiz putting him in his place gave the agent a power trip. The man felt powerful by causing someone to fear them and to submit to them. Ruiz was an alpha male in a dog-eat-dog world. Neal didn't know what that made him, and he didn't want to think too hard on that.

"Maybe next time you'll think twice before doing something stupid," he said, a mocking smile on his face. "Oh, and if you even _think_ about reporting me, I'll throw you back in prison and make your life a living hell in there," he said, giving Neal even more incentive not to do anything about Ruiz's anger issues.

The agent then got up and left, leaving Neal to slowly, painfully pick himself up.

Barely standing in the dark parking garage, in more than a little pain, the mile walk to the motel suddenly seemed a lot longer. Unfortunately Neal just didn't have the money to spend on a cab, so he walked.

Neal didn't blame Peter - he was just trying to help. It was actually nice to know someone cared, even if their good intentions turned around and bit Neal in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cujo is a fictional dog that contracted rabies and terrorized a town. The movies name is Cujo (go figure) and I've never seen it, but I've heard of it from Gray's Anatomy and I asked my mom and she told me what it was.
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone by the name of 'Guest' pointed out that Cujo was originally a novel by Steven King. I did not know that, so thanks for the info!

Neal continued to work hard like a good little pet con and tried not to do anything that would anger Ruiz. It was working so far, but Neal knew Ruiz would lose his temper again - it was just a matter of time before Neal did something the agent didn't approve of.

A week went by and Neal didn't see Peter since he had come to Organized Crime. Neal got to lose the sling and he could now carry more cups of coffee again. That meant less trips to the Starbucks down the street and more time for paperwork and all of the boring cases that no one else wanted to work on. Yay.

Mozzie came back to town after dealing with an 'emergency' (it's best not to ask) and showed Neal a picture of Kate from one day ago. The anklet never felt more restricting than the moment he heard she was on the other side of the country, with a man that she looked afraid of. Neal knew that if he cut and ran he would be doing more harm than good. He needed to play it smart.

Neal needed to know if Kate left him any messages that he was too stupid to see. He needed to see the recording of the last time she visited him in prison. Agent Callahan would have access to that tape. The man didn't really like Neal, but he didn't hate him, either. If Neal played his cards right, he could con Callahan into giving him the tape long enough to find what Kate was probably trying to tell him while he watched his life walk away.

Early the next day, Neal went to the twenty-first floor, planning to get Agent Callahan to give him the tape. He had the whole con planned out, from what he was going to say to why he was there. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side.

The White Collar unit looked a lot like Organized Crimes did, only they seemed to have a lot more order and harmony to their operation.

While making a cup of coffee for his alibi, Neal took an inconspicuous look around the room to see if he could spot the agent. A tall man with light red hair was a few desks away, as was an African-American man who's posture and appearance told Neal he had been in some branch of the military at some point. Neal also saw the woman that was with Peter in the conference room the day of the op to take down Mendez, but Callahan was not there.

Neal turned to look at the glass walled offices up the short set of steps, only to see Peter walking down them. Neal was really hoping not to run into Peter because now he would have to explain why he was there. But he knew it was a possibility, so he planned ahead.

Neal turned his head away in hopes that Peter wouldn't spot him, but Peter must've recognized him from the side because the agent called his name. Neal couldn't just ignore him, so he turn back and smiled.

"We really need to stop meeting like this," Neal said.

"What are you doing here, Neal?" Peter asked kindly, but looked a little suspicious.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," Neal said, deflecting the question. "Have you seen Agent Callahan?"

Peter looked even more suspicious. Apparently the agent had good instincts. "He transferred out to DC," Peter said, looking slightly jealous. "Catching you again gave him that last push to a promotion."

Neal hadn't bothered keeping tabs with Agent Callahan, but now he wished he did. How was he going to get that tape now?

"Well, now he can't say I never did anything for him," Neal said as he poured a cup of coffee, mind racing on how to fix this.

"You didn't really do it for _him_ ," Peter pointed out.

"Semantics," Neal said, waving it off.

"So you came up here to find Agent Callahan?" Peter asked casually.

"No. The coffee machine on our floor is broken-" Stuffing a handful of napkins into it would do that. "-and I'm told that yours makes the best in the building," Neal said, then took a sip of the coffee he had in his hands. It tasted like what Neal imagined sewage water would taste like.

Peter let out a bark of laughter at the face Neal made. "And who told you that?"

"Obviously not someone that likes me," Neal said thickly as he put down the mug. Agent Walker actually told him about the coffee, and now Neal knows not to listen to what he says again.

"So why did you need to see Agent Callahan?" Peter asked. Apparently the agent just wouldn't let it go.

"I didn't need to see him, I just wanted to know if he was around. Apparently he's not," Neal said, but Peter wasn't convinced.

"I know you were here for Agent Callahan, so why don't you just tell me why," Peter said in a no-nonsense tone, looking a lot more intimidating than he did a few seconds ago.

Neal thought about lying to Peter, but that just didn't feel right for some reason. "I wanted to see the tape of the last time Kate - my girlfriend - visited me in prison, and I was going to ask Agent Callahan to let me see it." It was a pretty personal topic, but Neal guessed Peter already knew about her being as the agent had read his file and information about her definitely would have been in there because she was the reason why he escaped.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Peter asked, looking and sounding a lot like a father-figure all of a sudden.

"It's the last time I saw her. I just want some closure," Neal said quietly.

Peter nodded, then there was a silence between them. Neal looked at the New York clock on the wall behind Peter. Crap - he was supposed to be at Organized Crime twenty minutes ago. A chill ran down Neal's spine at the thought of Ruiz finding out.

"You okay?" Peter asked, jolting Neal out of his thoughts. For a split second, Neal thought that Peter could help him, that he could free him from the fear of what Ruiz would do next. But that thought left as soon as it came. Peter wouldn't be able to help. He might have wanted to, but he couldn't. Ruiz would see to that.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just have to get to work," Neal said, already walking towards the elevators.

"Bye, Neal," Neal heard Peter call after him. Neal went through the glass doors and waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive.

When Neal got to the fourteenth floor, he tried to look like he wasn't afraid of where Ruiz was. He wasn't in his glass-walled office on the top of the stairs when Neal risked a glance. He could be anywhere.

Neal went straight to his desk and sat down. It looked like more agents mistook his desk as the place to put their paperwork again.

Neal set to work on the giant stacks of papers in front of him. Nothing happened for ten minutes and Neal thought he was in the clear. He was so focused on trying to act natural that Ruiz somehow snuck up on him.

"Caffrey!" Ruiz barked, startling Neal badly enough that he almost fell out of his chair.

Neal looked up to see Ruiz looming over him, a deep scowl on his face. "Yes, sir?" Neal said, trying to sound confident, but his heart was beating a little too fast to come across as his usual levelheaded self.

"You're twenty minutes late," Ruiz said. "Where were you?"

How did the agent even know? Did another agent tell him? It wouldn't be surprising - no one liked him and telling Ruiz about Neal's transgressions could win brownie points.

"I got stuck in traffic, sir," Neal said, sounding more confident now. It was a believable lie. It's New York - everyone gets stuck in traffic.

Ruiz narrowed his eyes, not believing that for a second, and Neal wondered if he would believe him if he really did get stuck in traffic. Probably not. 'Criminals lie' is probably Ruiz's motto. That or 'Caffrey lies.'

Ruiz rounded Neal's desk and grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him to his feet. Apparently Ruiz didn't care if anyone else saw him manhandling his CI. Neal had hoped that the agent would be more discreet about his anger problems. Neal had thought that he was safe if other people were around. Apparently he was wrong.

Ruiz dragged him out of the bullpen and into one of the offices to the side that had real walls. He shoved Neal into the room and shut the door. Neal's stomach dropped when he heard the click of the lock.

"I don't know what answer you're looking for. I got stuck in traffic - it happens," Neal said.

"You got stuck in traffic?" Ruiz asked, looking a little exasperated. "How stupid do you think I am?" He asked, looking angry now.

Neal knew he shouldn't have, but he did. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked cockily. He really should have kept his mouth shut.

Ruiz took two quick strides and was suddenly in Neal's face. With the wall to his back and an angry FBI agent that had a gun and was trained in hand-to-hand combat in front of him, Neal had nowhere to go.

Ruiz grabbed Neal by the lapels of his jacket, pulled him towards him then slammed him hard against the wall. "What were you doing?"

"Sitting in a cab!" Neal said.

"Bullshit!" Ruiz said, then punched Neal in the stomach. Neal grunted and winced as Ruiz hit old bruises.

"You really don't know how to follow orders, do you?" Ruiz asked. "Well, I think I can help you with that." Ruiz grabbed Neal's hair and slammed his head against the wall.

"Maybe I should make you a list of things not to do, that way you might not get as confused." Three more punches to Neal's chest left him gasping for breath. Then Ruiz backed up, letting Neal lean heavily against the wall. Just like all of the other beatings, this one was quick but brutal. Neal knew exactly why Ruiz didn't go for the face - it would be hard to explain the bruises. If Ruiz bruised him where he could hide, then there wouldn't be any questions.

"I want you to be here twenty minutes early tomorrow," Ruiz said as he left, shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal didn't keep tabs with Agent Callahan like he did with Peter on the show because they didn't have the same connection as Neal and Peter did. Neal taunted Peter because he responded like a friend or friendly adversary would. Callahan was a no-nonsense agent that wanted to catch Neal, not befriend him.
> 
> I know Cruz replaces Diana for the first season, the season I'm recreating, but I'm just going to stick with Diana. (She was the woman Neal saw in the bullpen in this chapter and in the conference room in chapter one.) I like her better, and I've never wrote Cruz so I'm not sure how good I'd be.
> 
> There will be more of a plot line in the next chapter, so hold tight if you feel like this isn't going anywhere. The next chapter should be up sooner than this one took.
> 
> Neal has been beat up or threatened in every chapter so far. Poor guy! It's too bad for him that we all love reading about him get beat up and into trouble. And yes, there is a reason for poor Neal to get beat up. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen people remake the pilot before, but I've never seen them remake 'Book of hours' (season one, episode three) Since that's the only episode Ruiz is in, I decided to take my own spin on it, see it from Organized Crime's point of view.

Neal arrived twenty-three minutes early, tired, sore and definitely not excited to do more boring paperwork and coffee runs. Despite his lack of enthusiasm, he went straight to he desk and went to work.

"You, you're coming with me," Ruiz said as he pointed at Neal and walked past his desk towards the elevators.

Neal sat there for a second, wondering if 'you' was him, then quickly stood up. The sudden movement aggravated his bruised muscles, but he didn't let that slow him down too much. He grabbed his fedora that he got from a thrift store yesterday off his desk, flipped it on his head, then caught up to Ruiz.

Since they were on the fourteenth floor, the elevator was the most logical decision. While they waited for the car to arrive, Neal asked, "where are we going, sir?"

Ruiz glanced over to Neal before watching the numbers to the left of the elevator doors again. "Paul Ignazio, Burrelli's cousin, was just found dead," he said.

"And who is Burrelli?" Neal asked.

Ruiz didn't seem happy about Neal's questioning, but he still answered. "Mob boss."

That didn't really explain where they were going, but Ruiz didn't seem to be offering more information, so Neal stopped asking.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They waited as the other agents walked out, then they entered the car. "Not that I'm not happy to leave the office, but why are you bringing me?" Neal asked after the door shut and they were on their way to the parking garage.

"There's been a crime spike this last month and we're short on agents, so Hughes thought it would be a good idea for you to come and see how we operate," Ruiz said, not looking happy about Agent Hughes' decision.

The rest of the ride was rode in silence. When they made it to Ruiz's car, the agent stopped.

"Hands," Ruiz ordered as he pulled out his handcuffs.

"What?" Neal asked, automatically moving his hands away and out of sight.

"Give me your hands, Caffrey," Ruiz said shortly. "I'm cuffing you while you're in my car."

"You can't cuff me," Neal said indignantly.

"Watch me," Ruiz said as he grabbed one of Neal's wrists and slapped a cuff around it, then doing the same with the other with practiced ease. As much as he wanted to, Neal knew he couldn't resist a federal agent that had major anger issues, so he just let Ruiz cuff him.

Ruiz grabbed him by the arm and steered him to the back of the car for some reason. He open the door and guided him in the back seat with a hand on the top of his head, a move all law enforcement personnel seemed to know.

"This is ridiculous," Neal muttered after Ruiz shut the door.

Ruiz went around and got in the drivers side then started up the car.

"Why can't I ride up front?" Neal asked. He didn't see any reason why he couldn't have.

"You could grab the steering wheel and make us wreck," Ruiz said, like it made perfect sense.

"Of course, because I really seem like the kind of person that would wreck a car, endangering myself in the process, just to have a chance at fleeing when I could have done so last night when you weren't there to chase me," Neal said sarcastically. That would have been a stupid plan. "Do you really think I'd do that?"

"I'm not taking any chances," Ruiz said, looking sternly at Neal through the rear view mirror.

Neal sighed and sat back, trying to get comfortable. At least Ruiz had the curtesy to not cuff his hands behind his back. Neal knew from experience how uncomfortable it could be to have your hands cuffed behind you while in a car, even without a healing bullet wound.

"Some idiot messed up the coffee machine, so we're going to make a pitstop," Ruiz said, then went silent. Fortunately he hadn't figured out that it was Neal that did that. Ruiz preferred the coffee at the office to the ones from Starbucks for some ungodly reason.

A few minutes later they pulled up a half a block away from the Starbucks - not a bad parking spot for New York.

"Stay here," Ruiz said as he opened his door.

"You're _leaving_ me here?" Neal said, incredulous. "It's, like, ninety-five degrees outside!"

"I'm only going to be a few minutes," Ruiz said.

"Can you leave the air running at least?" The air conditioning in the car hadn't been doing much to combat the heat, but it would be better than nothing.

Ruiz laughed, like it was a hilarious suggestion. "You think I'm just gonna leave you in my car with the key's still in the ignition?"

"Well, like I told you earlier, I'm not going to run," Neal said.

With an annoyed sigh, Ruiz put the keys back in the ignition, then made a show of rolling down the front two windows a tiny bit. Not enough to climb through, or to put your hand through. "There," he said, like it solved everything.

He took the keys back out, of course, then left, locking the doors behind him. It would have been a redundant action if this was a normal car, but it wasn't. You can't unlock the doors from the inside, not unlike police cars. It makes it a lot easier to keep the criminals in the vehicles when they can't unlock the doors. And since Ruiz might apprehend a suspect while out in the field, he would need a way to transport them without worrying about them opening the door and rolling out while going down the road. Some people are actually that crazy.

He was just left in the car with the windows cracked, like a mistreated dog. Ruiz was taking forever and it was getting hotter and hotter in the car despite the cracked windows. Neal could feel sweat rolling down his back and the heat made it seem like it was harder to breathe. Neal couldn't tell how long he sat there as he had no watch, but it seemed far too long in Neal's opinion.

Finally, Neal saw Ruiz sauntering down the street, and, not to Neal's surprise, the agent only had one coffee in his hand.

The car unlocked with a beep and Ruiz got in. He looked at Neal through the rear view mirror and smirked. "Good boy," he said, making Neal clench his fists and practice his self control so he didn't say anything - not a trait he's been known for.

Ruiz turned on the car and merged into traffic. "I give you a command, and you follow it. Maybe this arrangement can work out."

Neal just looked out the window, knowing he shouldn't, and couldn't, say anything.

WCWCWCWC

They arrived at the docks of Long Island some time later. Ruiz helped Neal out of the car and un-cuffed him. Neal could see Agent Hughes in the distance, his white hair and tall stature making him stand out, and he guessed the agent wouldn't approve of Ruiz cuffing his criminal consultant.

Neal still didn't know exactly what they were doing as they walked towards the dock, but he had thought that they would be talking to suspects or something. What he did not expect was an ominous white blanket over a body-shaped lump. He didn't do dead body's - they made him vaguely sick and he really didn't see what help he could be to them - murder isn't an intellectual pursuit.

To Neal's surprise, Peter was there, crouched next to the body and looking at a bullet casing that he had on a pen in his hand. Agent Hughes was there as well, standing behind Peter.

".25 caliber. European gauge," Neal heard Peter say as they approached. Peter looked like he was in his element, his FBI windbreaker completing the whole 'Special Agent Peter Burke: Man In Charge,' image.

Ruiz walked right up to the body like it was no big deal. "It's a .22 caliber," Ruiz said, then crouched down as well while putting on white latex gloves.

Neal kept his distance as he silently watched the three men.

"This is Brooklyn, buddy, not Bavaria," Ruiz said, making Peter give the agent a restrained glare.

"Pete Burke. This is a homicide, not an art exhibit. What are you doing here?"

"I see you brought Neal," Peter said, indicating the man a few feet away.

"Well, I couldn't just leave him in the car with the windows cracked, now could I?" Ruiz said, shooting Neal an amused glance. "This is my show now, so what are you doing at my crime scene?"

Peter stood up and shot Hughes a questioning glance. "This tails into my case," Peter said, looking like he wasn't going to back down without a fight.

"This is mob retaliation. It's my investigation now. If you don't believe me, ask Hughes."

Peter started to protest, but Agent Hughes stopped him and steered him away from Ruiz and Neal, talking to him in a hushed tone. They walked farther down the dock, somewhere Neal would rather be.

"It's just a dead body, Caffrey," Ruiz said, like Neal was being a wuss. "Get over here."

Reluctantly, Neal walked closer to the body. Ruiz pulled the sheet off of the body and Neal turned away, stomach rolling. Ruiz seemed amused by Neal's distaste for the dead.

After examining the body for a while (Single GSW to the chest, close range. Wet, but not waterlogged. No eyewitnesses. ID and money still in his wallet, jewelry still there - not a robbery) Neal and Ruiz left. As they were leaving, Neal could see a seething Peter sitting on a bench at the end of the dock.

WCWCWCWC

Back at the Bureau, Neal, Ruiz and half a dozen other agents were in the conference room looking over all of the information they had in Paul Ignazio, Burrelli and other mob families. The White Collar unit told them of the bible that had been stolen as well as the homeless vet, but Ruiz quickly discarded that angle. After a few hours of digging, Ruiz came up with something.

"Looks like Ignazio spent a lot of time at Brooklyn State," Ruiz said after reading through a report. "Let's go there, see why he kept going there," he said, looking at Neal. Apparently they were still partners.

Neal stood up, suppressing a wince, and headed to the door. As they walked together, Ruiz put an arm around Neal's shoulder. To an outsider, it would look like they were just pals being friendly, but the painfully tight grip and whispered words in Neal's ear told a different story.

"I'm only taking you because Hughes is watching. You'd better behave while we're out. Just keep your mouth shut and we won't have a problem," Ruiz said.

Neal swallowed hard and nodded. Neal hated how fearful Ruiz made him, but he couldn't do anything about it.

WCWCWCWC

After driving to Brooklyn State, where Neal was cuffed again, Neal and Ruiz met with an attractive brunette woman that the receptionist at the front desk pointed them to.

"I'm Maria Fiametta. You guys are with the FBI?" Maria asked.

"Yes, my name is Special Agent Ruiz," Ruiz said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Ruiz," she said as she shook Ruiz's hand. She shook Neal's hand next. "And Agent...?"

"Neal - Caffrey."

"That's funny. There's a very talented manuscript forger also named Neal Caffrey," Maria said, laughing lightly.

Seeing a beautiful woman that was impressed with Neal Caffrey forgeries, Neal couldn't help but flirt with her, momentarily forgetting that Ruiz didn't want him to talk. He smiled widely. "How talented?"

She smiled and pointed at Neal. "You're him," she said, laughing. "And you work with the FBI?"

"Uh, it's sort of a work release," Neal said.

"I have to ask, um, is it true that the Vinland map is yours?" She asked.

"How could it be? But if it is, it's spectacular," Neal said, still smiling in a flirtatious way.

Ruiz put his hand on Neal's shoulder and gripped it in a nearly bone-crushing grip. "How about you just tell the lady the reason why we're here, huh?"

Neal sobered quickly and nodded. "Right," he said, then handed Maria the picture of Paul Ignazio.

"Do you know this man?" Ruiz asked after he let go of Neal's shoulder.

A flash of something akin to fear crossed Maria's face for a split second as she studied the picture, then her face was mask of neutrality. "Can't say that I do, no," she said as she handed back the picture. "Why, did he do something?"

"Yes, many things, but that's not why we're here," Ruiz said. "He's dead."

"Oh, well I hope you catch his killer," she said.

"Yeah, me too," Ruiz said.

Ruiz didn't think Ignazio's death had anything to do with the bible, so he didn't ask her about it. The agent asked a few more questions while Neal continued to flirt with Maria with his eyes while she did the same. Ruiz never said he couldn't look at someone.

They soon left and Ruiz still thought that a rival crime family was responsible for Ignazio's death, but Neal thought differently.

As they were walking back to Ruiz's car, Neal said, "Sir, I don't think this was a mob retaliation at all."

Ruiz stopped dead in his tracks and turned to Neal. "I didn't bring you in on this to go against my judgement. You're just a criminal consultant - nothing more. Start acting like one," he said, looking straight at Neal, then started walking again. Neal could do nothing but follow, his head hanging a little lower than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are probably people out there that hate when people use quotes from the show, but I like it, if they make it fit right. Vice Collar did really good and some teen Neal ones were good too. Just think of it like this: I'm showing what it'd be like if Ruiz was Neal's handler, not Peter. This is how that scene would go. Just roll with it.
> 
> Peter's point of view will be coming up soon! We'll get to see what he's been thinking. Yay!
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	7. Chapter 7

The only good thing that came out of that day was the fedora that Neal bought from the thrift store on his way home. It was actually a beautiful vintage hat, and it was only twenty dollars. They obviously didn't know what they had when they sold it for that price. But despite his great find, Neal was still a little down and he was definitely exhausted.

Neal trudged his way to his motel room. He was sore everywhere and he just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, when he opened the door to his room, he saw that Mozzie was sitting in one of the two chairs that were next to the small table on the opposite side of the room as the bed.

He was sipping wine that he had actually brought from a wine glass that he had also brought. Neal smiled when he saw the second wine glass. A drink sounded really good right about now.

"Seriously, man, you need to find a better place than this," Mozzie said when he saw Neal. "It's not good when the cockroaches outnumber the amount of people in the building."

"I don't really have any other option here, Mozzie," Neal said as he carefully took off his jacket and sat down across from his friend, the chair squeeking under his weight. "With how close Ruiz has been watching me, I really don't think I should be dipping into any funds for better amenities."

"Scented soap and wine aren't amenities, Neal, they're necessities," Mozzie said, like it was obvious. As if to make a point, Mozzie took another sip of his wine.

"You forget that I spent four years in prison, Moz. I didn't have those luxuries in there."

Mozzie's face turned sober. "I didn't forget that," he said quietly, then continued to sip his wine. Neal poured himself a healthy amount in his glass and took a large sip.

"So no news on Kate?" Neal asked. It was the first thing he wanted to ask when he saw his friend, but he waited for the pleasantries to be over.

"No, man. She's a ghost. You taught her well, maybe too well," Mozzie said, then there was a silence as both men got lost in thought.

Thanks to the lack of air conditioning, it was really hot in the room, but Neal really didn't want to change into a different shirt. He couldn't even roll up his sleeves because the handcuffs left bruises because he 'squirmed too much,' as Ruiz had put it.

Neal had never been modest by no means, but Mozzie didn't know about Ruiz and his violent tendencies. Neal knew he'd try to get him to leave or plot revenge or something, but doing anything would just land Neal in prison or on the run for the rest of his life. He couldn't find Kate if he was in another country, hiding from the law.

Unfortunately, the room just kept getting hotter. Mozzie would figure it out eventually anyway. Might as well rip off the metaphorical bandaid sooner rather than later.

Neal got up and went to his bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, along with his tie. The movement aggravated his bruised muscles and he winced.

Mozzie was in the middle of sipping his wine when Neal turned around and he nearly choked on it when he saw Neal's bruised body. The way his eyes bugged out would have been funny under different circumstances.

"What the hell happened to you?" Mozzie asked, sitting his glass down before he dropped it. Mozzie's not one to curse, so Neal knew he was really upset.

"I was twenty minutes late to work," Neal said. That explained the newer bruises that were starting to turn dark purple. Neal really didn't want to get into detail about his other so called transgressions, so he just left it at that. Mozzie already knew about the gunshot wound because of the sling Neal had on before, but now he could see the small piece of gauze taped to the wound.

"The _suit_ did this to you?" Mozzie asked, appalled.

A wave of shame washed over Neal, but he pushed those thoughts away. Neal nodded, then grabbed a white v-neck t-shirt off of his bed and carefully pulled it on.

"And you haven't ran because...?" Mozzie prompted, making a 'go on' gesture with his hand. He was looking at Neal like he was crazy.

"If I'm running from the law, there's no chance I'll be able to find Kate," Neal said. Mozzie knew how Neal felt about Kate. He knew he'd do anything he could do to find her.

"And what about reporting him or something?" Mozzie asked.

"It would be his word against mine. No one would side with the criminal when one of their own says it never happened," Neal said. He had already thought about that. "No matter what I try to do, the only thing I'll get from it is more jail time."

Mozzie looked like he wanted to knock some sense into Neal, but instead he sat back and sighed. "Your decisions in life are not mine to make, nor to judge; I can only support you, encourage you, and help you when you ask," he quoted.

"Thanks, Moz," Neal said sincerely. That was Mozzie's way of telling Neal that he wouldn't do anything until Neal asked him to. He really was a good friend.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"Just stay for a while," Neal said. He wanted him to stay now that his emotions were so close to the surface. He needed a friend now; he could sleep later.

WCWCWCWC

The next day Hughes decided to let White Collar help out with the investigation. Not unlike the first time Neal was in the conference room, White Collar and Organized Crime agents sat and stood around the large table and shared intel about the case they were working on together.

White Collar agents focused on the bible angle while the Organized Crime agents worked on the mob retaliation angle. Neal thought the bible motive sounded better, but he wasn't working in White Collar, so he focused on the recent activities of rival mob families, predominantly the Moretti's.

Even though Neal wasn't working with the White Collar agents, he still heard them talk about a few things, like the homeless vet by the name of Steve that had a sick dog named Lucy. Apparently he thought the bible could help her get better, but Ignazio took it before he could try to help his dog.

Ruiz looked into Paul's credit, and he got wired ten-thousand dollars from a shell corporation in Gibraltar owned by Maria Fiametta. It fit Peter's hunch, and when he heard about it, he jumped on working that angle. Hughes thought that it was plausible and decided to let Peter set up an op.

Peter immediately thought of Neal to go undercover for some reason, but then he questioned if Neal was ready to go back undercover because of Neal's healing gunshot wound, but that was hurting less than all of the bruises Ruiz had given him. That's obviously not what Neal said. It was something more along the lines of not needing to lift anything heavy or moving his arm around without wincing for the op, and it worked. He was going to go on a date with Maria to see if he could get any information out of her about the bible.

Since Maria already knew that he had an anklet, Neal kept in on during the date. Neal took her out to a very expensive restaurant and she invited him to her place after dinner. Some agents had planted bugs at her place before they got there.

The thought of Ruiz listening in to their conversation made Neal rethink his words at first, but after a while, he figured that if in the end he didn't run, Ruiz wouldn't punish him for acting like a disobedient pet con that's willing to slip his leash and run.

Neal knew it was a risk to put the bug in the wine, but he needed to show Maria that he didn't trust the Feds. She believed him and they set up a meet for the next day so they could make the trade.

Ruiz didn't say anything about the bug shorting out. In fact, Hughes seemed more upset about it, but Neal just told him he didn't do anything to it. Hughes seemed to believe him and dropped it.

Ruiz hated the idea of letting Neal cut the anklet to show Maria that he was serious about running, but both Hughes and Peter told him that they wouldn't let Neal escape if he was planning on running. Even though Peter and Hughes said they'd be okay with it, Ruiz had given Neal a death stare that sent chills down Neal's spine. If Peter noticed that Neal had shifted closer to him after that, he didn't say.

Ruiz also hated the idea of giving Neal two-hundred and fifty-thousand dollars, but they set up a dummy account for the exchange. That got Ruiz to stop complaining - about that.

Neal enjoyed working with White Collar not only because he got the spend time with Peter, the only person in the building that didn't treat him like dirt, but the more people that were around him, the safer Neal felt. Ruiz could always drag him off to an office away from everyone, but Neal still felt that Ruiz would not want to draw attention to what he was doing behind closed doors. He hadn't hit him since the beginning of the case and Neal was starting to relax a little more.

The day of the exchange, Peter was wearing such a god-awful tie that Neal had to force himself to avert his eyes so he didn't stare. It was like a train wreck around his neck - he wanted to look away, but he just couldn't.

After he got past the disaster of a tie, Neal sat through a boring meeting that went over the last few details of what Neal was not allowed to do. Hughes had actually told Neal that he couldn't steal the bible and run off with it. Like he would be dumb enough to do that when that many FBI agents were watching. Not to mention having to face Burrelli's wrath.

When Ruiz grabbed his arm while they were leaving the conference room, Neal had thought that he had managed to anger the agent again. Fear and adrenaline pulsed through Neal's veins and his flight instincts told him twist out of Ruiz's grip and run away from the angry man. Fortunately Ruiz didn't shove him into a room and knock him around again, he just wanted to threaten him one more time before the meet.

Ruiz guided Neal to the elevators. For once, the car was actually there when they arrived. Neal and Ruiz were the only ones that got on the elevator and Neal's stomach twisted into knots when the doors closed.

Ruiz, still holding onto Neal's arm, leaned in close. "If you run, I'll hunt you down and throw you into a prison that not even _you_ can get out of," Ruiz threatened in a low voice. "And don't do anything that would piss the professor lady off."

All of the stress and anger and fear had built up inside of Neal and he couldn't help but snap at Ruiz. He pulled himself out of Ruiz grasp. "That's all you care about, isn't it? The only reason you give a damn about me is because if I die in your custody, it'll look bad on you," Neal finally snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the agent. It felt good to finally let some of the anger he felt out. But then Neal realized what he just did, and he cringed a little, expecting a hit.

But Ruiz didn't hit him. He seem surprised by Neal's outburst, though. "You're making it sound like that's not how I should treat you," Ruiz said slowly, his eyebrows drawing together, as if he was confused by what Neal was saying.

Anger flared up inside of Neal at Ruiz's words, but he stopped himself from saying anything else. Neal didn't understand why Ruiz didn't hit him for back-talking, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Just do your job and don't mess up," Ruiz said, sounding annoyed. Neal nodded and when the elevator doors opened, he left to meet with Maria.

WCWCWCWC

Peter got up extra early the day of the exchange and he had on his lucky tie, but he was still worried about what could happen. What if Maria pulled a gun on Neal? He didn't have any training to deal with something like that. Peter was far more concerned about Neal than he expected he'd be.

After the quick meeting to discuss that last few details of the sting, Ruiz grabbed Neal's arm to steer the ex-conman to the door. If Peter didn't know any better, he would've thought he saw fear in Neal's eyes at the contact.

Why would Neal fear Ruiz? Sure, he was intimating, but he wouldn't raise his hand against his consultant, would he? Peter didn't think that Ruiz would do that, but the agent did have some anger issues.

Peter didn't know why, but the kid brought out the parental instincts that he didn't even know he had. He just seemed like he needed structure and guidance, probably not something he had when he was younger.

Peter really doubted Ruiz would hurt Neal. He was probably just going to give him a lecture about what would happen if he ran. That's what he would've done if Neal was his consultant.

Peter shrugged off the uneasy feeling in his gut and headed to the van to get ready for the meet.

WCWCWCWC

Everything was going according to plan. Neal cut the anklet and took off with Maria. They followed Maria's expensive car in the van and stayed out of sight while the deal went down. Since Ruiz was the lead agent in the sting and he was Neal's handler, Ruiz got to say when they went in. When the money was transferred, Ruiz radioed for everyone to move in.

Peter's heart nearly stopped when he saw Neal on the ground, bible in hand. He had heard the gunshot and thought the worst. But to actually see what he was thinking was terrifying.

Then he saw that Neal was fine. It was a miracle that the bible stopped the bullet. Peter didn't know how it happened and he didn't question it. He was just happy to see the kid alive and well. He may have thanked God while he was brushing off Neal's dust-covered shirt. A bible did save his life after all.

Diana cuffed Maria and put her in one of the SUV's. Maria shot Neal daggers, but didn't say anything.

Ruiz showed up seconds later with Neal's tracking device. All the agent seemed to care about was that Neal had his anklet, not that he was alive. Neal just lifted up his left pant leg and let Ruiz snap it back on, a resigned look on his face.

Neal and Ruiz left to escort the bible to the church and Peter decided to go, too. He had worked hard on the case and he wanted to see it through to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that's not where anyone wanted me to end this chapter, but I'm going to post more tomorrow. Good things will come to those who wait.


	8. Chapter 8

Since Ruiz was Neal's ride home, Neal had to go with him when he escorted the bible back to the church. The near-death experience and the fading adrenaline rush left Neal shaky, wired and on high alert.

When they got there, Neal saw that there was a man and a dog on the steps inside the church, near where the bible usually would be. Neal assumed that the man was Steve and the dog was Lucy. Steve claimed that he just wanted to help Lucy get better. He wanted to see the bible so it could heal her.

Burrelli immediately got upset, but when Lucy licked him, he took another look at the dog. Apparently Burrelli had a soft spot for dogs. He offered to bring Lucy to his vet in Yonkers. Steve agreed and all three left together.

Neal had thought that he had gotten away clean for all of the things he had done during the investigation. Unfortunately Ruiz was just waiting until after everything was wrapped up to punish him.

After Steve, Lucy and Burrelli left, Ruiz grabbed him by the arm and took him to an alley next to the church, yelling at him the whole way.

"Did you really think that I'd just let you off the hook for everything you've done the last couple of days?" he asked, then continued without an answer. "You undermined my authority, you back-talked me, you questioned my judgement." The vein on Ruiz's forehead looked like it was about to burst.

Once they got halfway down the alley, Ruiz shoved Neal back-first into the old brick wall. Neal's heart hammered in his chest as he looked into Ruiz's anger-filled eyes.

"Ruiz - sir..." Neal said, but he really didn't know what to say to stop the agent from hurting him again. Nothing had worked before.

"You _really_ don't know when to shut up," Ruiz snapped. He grabbed Neal's shirt and leaned in close. "I am the master, and you are the mutt. It's time you start acting like one," he whispered. Then the fists started flying.

Ruiz didn't bother not hitting Neal in the face. Either he didn't care, or his anger overpowered his rational thoughts. Head, chest, stomach - the agent didn't hold back. Pain reverberated through Neal's whole body with each hit.

This beating was far worse than the others. Ruiz was truly pissed this time and, for the second time that day, Neal truly feared for his life.

A commanding voice suddenly boomed down the alley, blissfully stopping the attack. "Hey, what the _hell_ is going on here?"

Both Ruiz and Neal looked in the direction of the voice. Peter was briskly walking down the alley, his jacket flapping in the wind and looking a lot like a modern day superhero. Neal almost laughed out loud at that analogy. Peter Burke; here to save the day.

WCWCWCWC

Peter went into the church to see if he could find Neal or Ruiz, but no one was there. He was heading back to his car when he heard a grunt of pain coming from an alley next to the church. His hand automatically went for his gun as he walked over to the corner of the alley, but he didn't pull it out of its holster. There was another sound of pain as Peter drew close.

When he turned the corner, he really didn't expect to see Agent Ruiz punching his consultant. Neal's back was to the wall and Ruiz had a firm grip on his shirt while he attacked him. Anger flared up in Peter to see Neal getting hurt.

"Hey, what the _hell_ is going on here?" Peter asked, but he already knew what was happening. Both men looked over at him. He could see fear, then instant relief in Neal's bright blue eyes; and shock and anger in Ruiz's. Peter didn't know how long Ruiz had been attacking Neal, but the kid look pretty beat up - his nose was bleeding, his lip was cut and Peter could see the start of some nasty bruises on his cheek and under his eye. And that was what he _could_ see.

"This little shit tried to run! He actually hit me! But I caught him before he got very far," Ruiz said, tightening his grip on Neal's shirt as if to prove his point.

The Neal Caffrey that Peter read about and spent time with the last couple of weeks was not a man of violence, or a man that would make stupid decisions like attacking an agent. The Neal that Peter had seen was quiet and subdued, especially around Ruiz. But Peter could see the bright young man under the uncertainty and something akin to fear he'd seen those bright blue eyes. It showed every time they got a lead in the case, or when he wanted to input his thoughts. But if Ruiz was in the room, he'd just shoot him a nervous glance and stay silent.

"Where'd he hit you?" Peter asked, trying to get Ruiz's story to fall apart. Neal wouldn't have hit him.

"In the chest," Ruiz said after a second, indicating the body part with his free hand.

"Did he cut his anklet?"

"No, but I'm guessing that was the next thing he was planning on doing," Ruiz said angrily.

"Is this true, Neal?" Peter asked, ignoring Ruiz shocked look. "Did you hit Agent Ruiz then try to run?" He kept his voice as friendly but firm.

Neal looked from Peter to Ruiz, then back again. There was fear and uncertainty in his eyes when he looked at Ruiz, but when he looked at Peter, determination and what Peter could only call bravery shined in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then shook his head. "No, Peter. I didn't try to run, and I didn't hit Ruiz," he said, his voice more firm than Peter expected it to be.

"Of course that's what he'd say!" Ruiz scoffed. "He'd say anything to get his ass out of trouble."

"Or he's telling the truth and it's _you_ who lied," Peter said.

Ruiz looked at Peter, alarmed. "You're taking _his_ side?" he asked, incredulous.

"I'm not taking his side, I'm believing in the most truthful story."

Ruiz's anger and confusion faded from his face. "He conned you too, Pete?" he asked, sounding almost sad. He let go of Neal and backed up a few steps. Peter thought he'd surrender, but obviously the agent had other plans.

Ruiz pulled his gun out of its holster and pointed the weapon at Peter. "Give me your gun, Pete," Ruiz said in a eerily calm voice.

Peter looked over to Neal, who looked at Peter with wide, fearful eyes. Peter didn't see a way to take down Ruiz without someone getting shot, so he slowly reached for his gun. "Ruiz, you don't want to do this," Peter said as he slowly took his gun out of its holster and put it on the ground.

"Kick it to me," Ruiz ordered, ignoring Peter's attempt at defusing the situation. Peter complied and Ruiz picked up the weapon and pointed it at Peter while he held his own at his side.

"This is how it went down: Caffrey here tried to run, but you stopped him, Pete. Unfortunately, Caffrey was desperate to escape, so, after a brief struggle, Caffrey got ahold of your gun and shot you. I caught up about then and I, seeing Caffrey standing over your dead body with a gun it his hand, shot the agent-killing son of a bitch. You get to die a hero and Caffrey gets to die like the criminal scum he is. And me, I think stopping Neal Caffrey from escaping should give me some good rep. I might even get a medal," Ruiz explained. He seemed proud of his plan.

"Ruiz, put the gun down," Peter said. "We can talk about this. We can just say none of this happened." It was a lie, obviously, but Peter would've said anything to get Ruiz stop his crazy plan.

"It's too late for that," Ruiz said, shaking his head.

Quicker than Peter could have reacted, Ruiz grabbed Neal and put him in front of himself. The agent then pointed his own gun at the ex-conman's head and put Peter's firearm in Neal's hand while still holding it and pointed it at Peter. The gun pointed at Neal's head stopped him from moving the one in his hand.

"Gotta make sure Caffrey's got GSR on his hands," Ruiz said, thinking ahead.

Neal's fearful eyes locked on to Peter's. There was something in them that told the agent that he had something planned. Peter tried to watch Neal's body language to see when he was going to make his move.

Ignoring the gun to his own head, Neal used both of his hands to swing Peter's gun away from its owner. Shocked from the sudden movement, Ruiz pulled the trigger, but the bullet went harmlessly into the brick wall next to Peter.

Neal elbowed Ruiz in the stomach and tried to pulled away, but Ruiz pistol-whipped Neal in the side of the head. Neal went down hard, clutching his now bleeding head. It all happened in a matter of seconds and Peter couldn't have done anything about it.

Fortunately, Ruiz was distracted by Neal, so Peter got the jump on him. Peter grabbed for his own gun with one hand and punched Ruiz in the face with the other. The punch dazed Ruiz enough to let go of the gun.

Neal recovered enough from the blow to the head to kick Ruiz's leg out from under him. Ruiz went down and Peter kicked the agents gun out of his hand. Neal pushed himself away from Ruiz's fallen form, but stopped when the action aggravated his hurt body.

Peter fetched Ruiz's gun and put it in the waistband of his pants while never taking his eyes or weapon off the agent.

"On your stomach," Peter ordered a seething Ruiz. The agent complied and Peter quickly cuffed him.

"You okay, Neal?" Peter asked, still not looking away from Ruiz.

"Yeah," Neal responded weakly.

"Call the police," Peter said to Neal.

"I don't have a phone," Neal responded, making Peter look at him for a split second. The younger man was still on the ground, but he was conscious, so Peter supposed he was okay.

"Why don't you have a phone?" Peter asked.

"Ruiz thought that it would be a bad idea," Neal said, sounding a little bitter.

"Take mine," Peter said as he used one hand to pull out his phone while still aiming his gun at Ruiz.

Neal struggled to his feet and staggered over to Peter. He took Peter's phone and called the police and an ambulance after Peter insisted.

Minutes later police cruisers pulled up and took care of Ruiz. Peter went over to Neal, who was sitting against the wall a few feet away from where Ruiz was being arrested. The kid looked worse for wear, but he smiled when he saw Peter.

"Looks like we're even," Neal said.

"How's that?" Peter asked as he sat next to Neal. Lines of pain were etched into the younger mans handsome features and the arm wrapped protectively around his midsection told Peter of hidden injures.

"Well, you saved my life a few weeks ago, and now I saved yours," Neal explained.

Peter nodded. "Guess so." The wound on Neal's head had stopped bleeding, but it had still made a trail down the side of his face and neck and disappeared under his shirt collar.

"You okay?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, just a scratch," Neal said, waving it off. Peter didn't believe him for a second, but didn't comment.

"How'd you know that he wasn't going to shoot you?" Peter asked after a minute, referring to Neal disregarding the gun to his own head when he shoved the one pointed at Peter away.

"He still needed me," Neal said simply, shrugging. Peter thought that there was more to it, but didn't say anything.

A few minutes later, an ambulance pulled up and two paramedics came up to the duo sitting against the wall. Neal said he could walk and didn't want to be strapped to a gurney, so the paramedics lead Neal to the waiting ambulance and Peter followed.

They had Neal sit on the bumper of the vehicle. Neal refused to let them cut his shirt off even though it looked barely salvageable. He also refused to let either paramedic unbutton his shirt for him. It took longer than it would've if one of the paramedics helped him, but Neal managed to get the shirt off.

What Peter saw shocked him. Neal had many multi-colored bruises all over his chest and abdomen. Even though White Collar crimes don't usually involve violence, Peter had seen some of what some people are capable of, so he could tell that this wasn't the first time Neal had been hit.

"Did Ruiz do all of this?" Peter asked, not sure if he wanted an answer.

A look of deep shame shadowed Neal's face and he looked away from Peter. That was all the answer the agent needed. Of course it wasn't the one he wanted.

All of Neal's actions made sense now. The submissive behavior that Peter had seen; the fearful look in his eyes when Ruiz came into the room or looked at him. Ruiz had used violence to keep Neal in line - the bastard.

After evaluating the patients condition, the paramedics decided that Neal needed to go the hospital for X-rays to check for cracked or broken ribs, a CT to make sure the hit to the head didn't cause any internal bleeding and some other tests.

Then one of the paramedics noticed the anklet. He told Peter that they'd have to remove it for the exams, so Peter had to call the Marshals and tell them that he was going to cut the anklet. Someone needed to be with Neal to make sure he didn't try to make a run for it, so Peter opted to go. He had planned on going anyway, but they didn't need to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you guys didn't expect _that!_ Okay, maybe you did.
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks for reading, guys!

Once Neal laid down on the gurney in the ambulance, his energy seemed to leave him. The kid's life had been on the line twice that day, so Peter understood how trying the day had been for him. The paramedics poking and prodding made it so he never actually fell asleep, but at least he was safe now.

Neal threw up in the ambulance after he was given pain medication, probably due to the concussion he no doubt had, and the paramedics chose not to give him more for a while. Neal didn't seem happy about that, but he didn't seem to have the energy to complain.

Once they got to the hospital, Peter stayed with Neal whenever the doctors let him, and when he couldn't, he stayed right outside of the room, telling people that he was staying there to make sure Neal didn't make a run for it. That was one of the reasons, so it wasn't technically a lie.

After the CT scan and X-ray, Neal looked so out of it that Peter doubted that he could run if he wanted to. When the tests were over Peter put the tracking anklet back on, but he didn't leave. He couldn't have even if he wanted to - the kid looked so young and kinda pathetic lying on that gurney in the busy emergency room that he had to stay.

Neal had said that he didn't have anyone else to be there for him, but he hesitated for a split second when Peter asked, so Peter suspected that there was someone that would have come if asked, but he let it be.

The results came back and they confirmed that Neal had one broken rib, two cracked ones and quite the concussion. The gash that the handle of Ruiz's gun had caused required six stitches. The bruises on Neal's wrist weren't that bad, so the doctors didn't do anything with them. That didn't make Peter any less mad about it. Why did Ruiz feel that he needed to restrain Neal? And when did he? Peter would have to ask later, not just for his own curiosity, but Neal needed to make a statement to make sure all of the charges stuck to the bastard that never should have had a CI in the first place, or a badge for that matter.

While the nurses were settling Neal into his room, Peter took that time to get some coffee and a sandwich from the cafeteria. The coffee was too strong and the sandwich was dry, but he ate and drank them anyway, knowing that he needed to keep his energy up.

About that time Peter figured out that Neal still had his phone. He must have forgotten to give it back earlier. Peter wondered how many people had called him in that time. Elizabeth, Diana, Hughes, his boss. Word that Ruiz had been arrested probably made it back to his boss by then. He was probably wanting answers.

Peter went up to the third floor and quickly found Neal's room. Neal was awake when Peter walked in. The ex-conman smiled when he saw it was Peter who came through the door. He seemed to be quiet a bit more alert than the last time Peter saw him.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Peter asked as he sat down on the chair that was next to the bed.

"I managed to keep down the medication that they gave me a half an hour ago, so better than before," Neal responded. He had been extremely embarrassed when he threw up in front of Peter before.

Peter nodded. He could see that the younger man's face was more relaxed than before, the medication was doing its job.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about Ruiz?" Peter asked. Neal should have told someone the first time Ruiz hurt him.

"No one would have believed me," Neal said simply. He seemed a little bitter about it - rightfully so - but also accepting of the fact that people wouldn't believe him because he had a rap sheet. Peter really hated to think that, but it might have been true. Who would believe a conman over an FBI agent?

'Would've I listened to Neal if he came to me?' Peter wondered. 'Yes,' he decided. If Neal would have come to him and showed him proof that he was being mistreated, he would have at least looked into it.

There was a clear plastic bag with the hospitals logo on it on the bed, leaning against Neal's outstretched legs. It had Neal's clothing and belongings he had with him when he came in. Peter guessed his phone was in there as well.

Neal noticed where Peter's gaze was, so he took Peter's phone out of the bag with a wince and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Peter said as he pocketed the device. There was some dried blood on it, but Peter ignored it.

"It's been ringing on and off for a while. I didn't answer it though. I imagine there'll be some angry people on the other end wondering what happened earlier."

"A bit of an understatement," Peter muttered. He was going to have to do a lot of explaining later.

Neal sighed, a hint of sadness to it. "When should you call the Marshals?" he asked as casually as he could.

Peter looked at him questionably. "Why would I call the Marshals?"

"Well, I don't have a handler anymore, so I'm probably going back to prison," he said, looking more resigned than sad, like he was accepting his fate.

Peter hadn't even thought about that. Surely there was another way so the kid didn't end up in prison again. If the incident with Mendez was any indication, word about Neal working with the FBI was going around fast. "Do you think you'll be safe in there?" Peter asked, surprising both men.

"As long as I'm not going to the same prison as Ruiz, I'll be okay," Neal said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Peter.

Both men were silent for several minutes.

"We could've made a great team, you and I," Neal said in a quiet voice, sounding a little sad.

That gave Peter a thought. He would have to talk to his boss when he left.

Peter hung around until Neal looked like he was going to fall asleep. Peter gave into the strange urge to pat Neal on the shoulder before he left. The younger man looked at peace when he left and Peter hoped he would be okay alone for the night.

Neal Caffrey was a mystery wrapped inside of an enigma and Peter wanted to know more about him and his motives. Like what kind of man breaks out of a maximum security prison with three months to go on a four year sentence for a woman? Kate must be one heck of a catch, or at least Peter hoped she was. Only a woman that loves Neal as much as Neal seems to love her deserves what he's willing to give her. His life, his freedom.

Peter wanted to know more about Neal and he hated the thought of him going back to prison, especially after everything he had gone through with Ruiz. Peter's idea would resolve both of those things.

WCWCWCWC

For a few hours, the only things Neal really registered were that there were far too many bright lights, the pain that seemed to be about everywhere and the doctors that kept asking him questions about his name and date of birth. Neal also noticed that there was a nearly constant and familiar presence with him through it all. It was nice to have someone there that wasn't determined to find every painful spot on his body.

Once he was given medication to combat the pain in his abdomen and the raging headache he had and they left him alone for a while, he got to close his eyes for a little bit. He was exhausted from not only the events of today, but everything that had happened recently. For the first time in weeks, Neal felt safe.

Then he realized that he didn't have a handler anymore. Would they send him back to prison now? Neal didn't know what they were going to to with him, and that worried him.

Neal was surprised that Peter stayed after the agent had put the anklet back on. There wasn't really a point for him to stay anymore, but then Neal remembered that Peter had come and seen him after he got shot a few weeks ago. The agent was nice to him, and he needed that at the time.

When Peter finally got up to leave, he patted Neal's shoulder in an almost fatherly way. It made Neal feel grounded, safe. He hadn't been given many gestures of comfort recently and he soaked it up for all it was worth.

He wouldn't be getting anymore for some time. Three years and nine months; one-thousand-three-hundred-seventy more lines on the white wall of his prison cell. At least he had some freedom, however short-lived.

Neal didn't know if he was going to try to escape again. He knew he couldn't try to escape the same way he did before. They were never going to give him a tape recorder again, or many other luxuries for a while, like informative books or a way to access the internet. He would have to find a new way out, but the guards would be watching him even closer than before.

He thought about enduring four more years, but the only reason he had planned to wait out his sentence was so him and Kate could live the life they always dreamed of - no running from the law and looking over their shoulder at every turn. And by the time he got out again, Kate's trail would be long cold.

Another problem was that word that he had been working for the Feds was going around quick. No one liked a snitch, even if they didn't have anything to do with their arrest. It had to do with a code amongst criminals, but Neal only ever had an obligation to protect a small group of people.

There was a lot to think about, but now he just wanted to sleep.

WCWCWCWC

When Peter got to the office, he went straight to his bosses office and began the speech he had rehearsed on the drive over. His superior listened to him, not saying a word until Peter was finished. Peter was hopeful, but then his boss shook his head and explained that he didn't think that employing a criminal to take down criminals would be a good idea. Peter didn't back down, though, and after two hours of debating, Peter got the green light to talk to Hughes, Neal and Ruiz's old boss, to see if he was willing to go along with Peter's plan.

But before he left to talk to Hughes, Peter asked his boss a favor. There was a certain tape that Peter wanted to borrow for a little bit. His boss agreed to help him get it if Hughes said yes to Peter's idea.

Hughes was a lot easier to persuade. Peter suspected that he also saw Neal's intelligence that he could redirect and do something good with his vast knowledge of cons and forgeries. He was the one that got him out of prison in the first place.

It took two days for the paperwork to go through as well as convicting a few more people that Peter could keep Neal under control. There was also the mess of Ruiz and his arrest that Peter had to deal with. Peter didn't want to tell Neal that he was trying to keep him out of prison in case it fell through, so he didn't tell him anything until everything was official. By that time, Neal was ready to leave the hospital.

When Peter entered Neal's room he saw that the ex-conman was dressed in the same dress shirt and slacks that he had on when he arrived at the hospital. The shirt had dried blood on the collar and the pants had some dirt on them, but he didn't have anything else to wear. The younger man was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and looked painfully bored - absentmindedly swinging his legs; staring off in space - but his face lit up when he saw Peter.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Neal said, surprised.

"Well, I figured that I'd make sure you're alive and kicking," Peter said lightly. Now that he was here, Peter didn't know how to tell Neal the good news.

"I know a man on a mission when I see one, and you, Peter, are a man on a mission," Neal said, still smiling. Either he was putting up a facade or he knew why Peter was here. Peter guessed it was the former, but he could be wrong.

Peter supposed there was no point in beating around the bush anymore. "I talked to Hughes and my boss, and after quite a bit of discussing, they decided to make me your handler," Peter said at length. He let the words sink in.

"I'm not going back to prison?" Neal asked, cautiously optimistic.

Peter shook his head. "Not unless you break the law...again," Peter said, but with only a hint of warning.

"I'll try, but I'm not going to make any promises," Neal said lightly.

"I think we can work with that," Peter said, nodding.

Neal smiled, wide and genuine. "Peter, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Peter smiled back. He had read something about Neal loving the classics, or maybe it was the woman that loved them.

Neal jumped off the bed and Peter put an arm around Neal's shoulder as they walked out the door. He completely agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> "Louie, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship," is from Casablanca, a movie that has some similarities to Neal and Peter's relationship. I never watched it myself (I tend to veer from movies older than me, and ones that are black and white), but I've heard things about it. I felt that it fit pretty well with the situation.
> 
> Well, that's it! That's for watching!

**Author's Note:**

> Things will get more exciting in the next chapter, you just wait!
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


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